


The Sharpest Lives

by Antichthoniae



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24477265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antichthoniae/pseuds/Antichthoniae
Summary: When a young elven woman loses her home to a dragon attack and joins the legion when she has nowhere else to go, she thinks she’s finally on the right path. But when she discovers that she’s the dragonborn of legend,  she’ll have to put aside her own beliefs to save a world that’s never treated her fairly.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

Helgen

17th of Last Seed

4E 201

  
  


Kjaer Ashfire had lived in Helgen almost all her life. Before she was taken in by an older Nord couple, near twenty years ago, she had spent her days in Riften's orphanage, being teased and picked on by the other children for her unusual elven features. It was difficult, being the only child in the orphanage who wasn't human, but thankfully her time there didn't last very long. And although Helgen was far more preferable compared to Honorhall, nothing even mildly interesting ever happened in the small village - until the civil war had started. In the month of Last Seed, in Kjaer's twenty-second year of life, a procession of soldiers arrived early in the morning.

A group of Imperial soldiers marched into the village shortly after sunrise, led by General Tullius himself. With them was the general's executioner, come all the way from Solitude. The nature of their arrival was now clear - someone important was destined for the chopping block, and their life was to end here, in Helgen. Not long after, three horse-led wagons rolled through the gate, one after another. From the last wagon to come to a halt stepped down four men: two clad in the telltale blue armor of the Stormcloaks, one in ragged clothing, and Ulfric Stormcloak himself _. So he was the one this procession was for._ The usurper himself, bound and gagged, come to die at the hands of the Empire. At the realization that Ulfric was to be executed here, people began filing out of their homes to watch from afar. An Imperial captain stood before the prisoners and began calling their names from her list.

_Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm._

_Ralof, a soldier from Riverwood._

_Lokir of Rorikstead. A horse thief, captured with the rest of the soldiers._

When she called out Lokir's name, he broke formation, and ran back the way they had come, shouting, "I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!"

At the captain's command, he was swiftly taken down by an Imperial archer's arrow. Unbothered, General Tullius approached Windhelm's Jarl, and looked down upon him.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero, but a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne."

Ulfric could only grunt in response. Tullius continued, "You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace."

_Peace, ha! As if Skyrim was ever a peaceful country, even before the rebellion._

A distant noise, a cry, rang down the mountainside, sounding almost like the crashing of boulders of a rockslide. It did not worry the soldiers, and they continued with their task at hand. The priest of Arkay with them began giving the rebels their last rites, only to be interrupted by an impatient Stormcloak soldier. No sense in delaying the inevitable, the soldier wanted his death to come quick.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" He said as he was lowered down onto the chopping block. His head came clean off with a swing of the headsman's axe, and his body pushed aside by an Imperial soldier's boot. Another cry, closer this time, rang out as they brought forth a second rebel to lie beneath the headsman's axe. A third cry came from above, and a large, black figure was flying through the sky towards them, partially obscured by the clouds and blinding light of the sun. 

"What in Oblivion is that?"

"Sentries!" the Imperial captain yelled. "What do you see?"

"It's in the clouds!"

From the sky swooped down the black figure, and when it landed on the tower in the center of town, it became clear that the assailant was a dragon, in the flesh. There were shouts of " _Dragon!"_ and incomprehensible yelling as everyone scattered, and the dragon let loose a shout that knocked the headsman off his feet and killed him instantly. General Tullius shouted at his men, ordering them to assist the townspeople to safety, while the dragon roared and fire rained down from the sky. Buildings were being demolished, one of the towers was threatening to crumble down, and people lay dead in the streets. 

"Hey, you! Get up! Come on, the gods won't give us another chance!" shouted the Imperial captain, and Kjaer, who had been knocked down by the force of the dragon’s shout, stood and followed the other woman without hesitation, not knowing where else to go amidst the chaos and destruction. She led Kjaer into the second, smaller tower that sat nestled between the ruins of the inn and someone’s home. The tower, mostly intact, seemed to be everyone else’s first choice of refuge as well. The few townspeople left had gathered inside, as well as a few Stormcloak soldiers that had managed to free themselves from their bonds during the attack. With them was Ulfric, speaking to his men in a low voice, and he quieted down as soon as the Imperial captain entered the tower with Kjaer in tow. 

_“You!”_ the captain shouted, and stalked over to Ulfric. “This was _your_ doing,” she said, jabbing her finger into his chest pointedly. 

“Adriana, must we start an argument now? We have bigger problems, if you couldn’t tell.” Ulfric said, gesturing around him to the crumbing walls and sounds of terror outside. “Can’t we just deal with the situation amicably for the time being, old friend?”

“You are no friend of mine, Ulfric Stormcloak.” The captain - Adriana - spat back at him. You’re a _traitor_ . Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you where you stand. As it were, _you seemed to have missed your own execution._ ”

“Given the winged threat outside, I’d say killing me would not be in your best interests, Adriana. If we’re to have any chance of living through this, you’ll need me.”

“Ha! You expect me to believe _you_ have what it takes to slay a dragon? Even if you _were_ the person best suited for the task, we have no chance of killing that beast by ourselves. It’d take a whole legion of soldiers to take that thing down.” 

“Perhaps,” Ulfric cooly replied. “But I have no intention of killing it. We just need to hold our own until we can escape.”

“If I may,” Kjaer said, cutting in. “Ulfric is right. If we want to get out of Helgen alive, it would be wise to stick together. Put aside your differences for the time being, so that we may have a chance of living through this.”

Captain Adriana huffed, but made no further attempt to berate Ulfric. 

“If we can get out of the tower, and around the wreckage,” Kjaer continued. “We may be able to escape through the keep. There are old tunnels that run beneath the village.”

“Perhaps we can jump through the roof of the inn - the dragon broke a hole in the side of the tower, and the inn’s roof is nearly all burned away.” one of Ulfric’s soldiers said.

“Good idea, Ralof. You two,” Ulfric said, nodding his head in the direction of his men, “follow Ralof to the inn. Adriana, you and the elf can follow us if you wish.”

Adriana sneered at him, but followed Ulfric anyway, with Kjaer not far behind. They made their way through the smoldering inn, Kjaer silently lamenting the loss of her home. She followed Adriana and the Stormcloaks through the ruins of Helgen, past the Imperial soldiers who still stood against the dragon, firing off arrows and firebolts as the village burned around them. Inside the keep, three Stormcloak soldiers, one dead and two speaking in angry voices, turned on the group when they entered, but lowered their weapons when they saw Ulfric. The two soldiers joined them without a word as they made their way further into the keep, though they shot Adriana a dirty look as they passed. 

Kjaer and the Imperial captain were vastly outnumbered by Stormcloaks, and Adriana clearly did not trust the situation at all, fearing that Ulfric’s men would turn on them when they got a chance. But they did not, and they traversed the caves beneath Helgen with ease and without bloodshed, apart from when one of Ulfric’s men charged in with a war cry to take out a bear, who had been sleeping soundly before they came along. When they emerged from the cave into the bright morning light, they could still see Helgen smoldering in the distance, but the dragon was nowhere to be seen. 

“Go,” Adriana said to Ulfric, “before I change my mind and slaughter you where you stand.”

Ulfric didn’t need another warning, and with a nod to his men, they started off down the road, heading eastward. 

“Where will you go?” Kjaer asked.

“Solitude. I have to report Ulfric’s escape to General Tullius, assuming he made it out as well. What about you?”

Kjaer shrugged. “I have no home, now, no place to go.”

“Ah, of course - I’m sorry. You may want to consider joining the Legion, then. We can always use more soldiers, and we’ll provide you with a place to sleep and a hot meal each night.”

“I may have no choice, really. Can I accompany you on the trip to Solitude, then?”

“Of course, I’d be happy to have some company. We’ll head through Riverwood, and then hire a carriage when we reach Whiterun.”

“Will we need supplies for the journey?”

“Riverwood has a general store. I’m sure Tullius won’t mind if I officially requisition some goods in order to safely journey back to Solitude.”

* * *

Kjaer didn’t make much small talk on the trip into Riverwood, only nodding in agreement whenever Adriana made a comment. The two ran into a bit of trouble, a pack of wolves on the road to Riverwood, and though they were outnumbered, the wolves were easily dispatched, and they continued on. 

Riverwood wasn’t much different than Kjaer remembered. It’d been a few years since she’d traveled to the only other village within a day’s walk of Helgen, and there were a few new faces, but not much else had changed. Alvor greeted her as they walked by his forge, and she waved back in response. When they entered the general store, Camilla and Lucan were arguing with each other. Adriana cleared her throat to get their attention.

“Ah, hello! Sorry about that, what can I do for you ladies?” Lucan asked, throwing himself back into his sleazy merchant routine. Kjaer rolled her eyes.

“On behalf of the Imperial Legion, I’m here to requisition supplies for my return journey to Solitude. You’ll be compensated greatly for your help.”

“Of course, captain, I’ll have my sister here help you load the goods into your cart.”

Camilla began to protest, but Adriana intervened. “No need, we can manage it ourselves.”

Lucan nodded, and began filling a small sack with the goods kept along his many shelves - bottles of mead, cheese wheels and loaves of bread among other things. While they waited, Camilla sidled up to Kjaer.

“Joining the Legion, are you?”

“I am,” Kjaer said, nodding. “Helgen was destroyed by a dragon, and Adriana here saved my life. I figured if I have nowhere left to call home, the Legion’s as good as any place to be now.”

“A dragon?” Camilla whispered in awe. “I thought I was seeing things earlier, but I guess I really _did_ see a dragon coming over the mountains.”

“I’ll have someone send word to the Jarl, perhaps he can station more men here so that Riverwood isn’t defenseless, should the dragon come back.”

“Thank you, Kjaer.” Camilla said, and as Lucan returned with their bag of goods, she gave her a tight hug. “You be safe out there, all right?”

“I will,” Kjaer promised, taking the bags from Lucan, and following Adriana back out the door with a grateful nod in the Valerius siblings’ direction. 

“She your girl?” Adriana asked, giving Kjaer a suggestive look.

“No, she’s an old friend. Camilla has enough suitors as it is, and I wouldn’t dare try to challenge Sven when it comes to winning a woman’s affections.”

“Is he a great warrior?”

“No,” Kjaer said with a laugh. “A bard.”

“Ah, even worse.”

“I told Camilla I’d send word to Jarl Balgruff about the dragon threat,” Kjaer said, changing the topic. “Do you think you’d be able to convince one of his guards to pass on the message?”

“Of course. Balgruuf supports the Legion, so his men should be willing to listen to me, at the least.”

Kjaer and Adriana walked in silence down the worn stone path leading to Whiterun, occasionally bumping shoulders. Half a day had passed since they had emerged from the cave at Helgen, and Kjaer could feel herself growing weary. Thankfully, the walls that surrounded Whiterun were in sight, and soon she would be able to sit and rest, although she was unlikely to get any sleep in the carriage, what with the unevenness of Skyrim’s roads and paths that always made for a bumpy ride.

The sun was low in the sky when they reached Whiterun’s stables, and Adriana approached one of the guards patrolling outside the walls. 

“Sorry miss, Imperial Captain or not, we can’t let anyone into the city with dragons about.” the guard said before Adriana could speak. 

“We’re not looking to get into the city, I just need you to deliver a message to Jarl Balgruuf on behalf of the Legion.”

“Aye, I can do that.”

“Riverwood is far too exposed and weak without walls like Whiterun’s to offer protection, and presents a prime target for the dragon in the area. Tell the Jarl that I strongly suggest he send a detachment to aid the village in the event that the dragon comes back.”

“Will do, Captain.”

Adriana nodded, and returned to Kjaer, who had been trying to secure their ride to Solitude, but the carriage driver had refused to believe that she was speaking on behalf of the Legion, until Adriana had joined them. He apologized profusely, and helped them load their goods into the cart before setting off without another word.

Night fell by the time they had reached Gjukar's Monument, and though the uneven terrain normally would have hindered her ability to sleep, Kjaer was exhausted, and found herself stretching out on the bench across from Adriana, and soon, the steady sound of hooves on stone lulled her to sleep. 

* * *

Solitude

18th of Last Seed

4E 201

They had just passed through Dragon Bridge when Kjaer woke the next morning. Adriana was still asleep across from her, and the carriage driver was staring dutifully ahead as they rumbled down the road. She hoped they had stopped sometime in the night so that he could rest. She figured they had, judging by the fact that they were not yet at their destination.

The sun was barely up over the horizon, and aside from the clacking of hooves and rolling of the cart’s wheels, the road to Solitude was silent in the early morning light. Kjaer took a moment to appreciate it. She hadn’t had a quiet moment to herself since before the attack the day prior, and she couldn’t help but think about Helgen up in flames. She’d lost _everything,_ and hadn’t been able to take a second and really process it all. Her home was gone, and here she was on a cart, headed to a new life less than a day later. How had she made the decision so easily? Why had she chosen to leave her life behind so quickly?

_I could have stayed in Riverwood,_ she thought crossly. _Camilla would have been more than willing to take me in. Why the hell did I choose to leave the hold?_

_But then again,_ she reasoned with herself, _what would I have done with my life? Worked at the sawmill? Spent my days drowning my sorrows in bottles of mead? No, this was the right choice, I’m sure of it._

Adriana woke with a jolt not more than twenty minutes later when the cart hit a particularly large stone in the road, and she sat upright, brushing her mussed up hair out of her face. 

“Morning,” Kjaer said. “We’re nearly to Solitude now.”

“Good, good.” 

“Anywhere in the city we can find something good for breakfast?”

“The Winking Skeever isn’t half bad, if you’re alright to deal with drunkards this early in the morning.”

“I think every tavern is like that, so I have no issues with it.” Kjaer replied.

Katla’s Farm came into view, and a few minutes later, the driver pulled his carriage up next to the empty one parked beside one of the towers that lined the road up to the gate.

“Here we are, lass,” he said to Adriana as she stood to exit the cart.

“I’ll make sure Tullius knows you assisted us, we’ll compensate you for the trip.”

He nodded, and once both women were on solid ground with what was left of their supplies, he snapped the reins and made his way back the way the came. As they made their way up the hill, Kjaer stared in awe at the city’s massive stone walls.

“First time to Solitude?” Adriana asked.

“Yeah. I’ve never been any further west than Whiterun.”

“It’s the greatest city in Skyrim,” Adrian told her as they entered through the massive gate. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy being here. Now, the Winking Skeever is there on the left, just let Corpulus know Adriana sent you in for a meal. I have to report to the general as soon as I can, but when you’re up to it, come find me at Castle Dour. I’ll put in a good word for you with the legate.”

“Thank you, Adriana, really. I appreciate your help more than I could ever express. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead along with everyone else in Helgen.”

“It’s my duty to protect the citizens of Skyrim, there’s no need to thank me for it.”

Kjaer gave her a grateful look, knowing that if she insisted on giving the other woman her thanks, she’d continue to brush it off. Adriana turned and made her way further into the city, to where General Tullius was surely waiting for her, and Kjaer watched her for far longer than was necessary. 

Inside the Winking Skeever, the people of Solitude were already drinking in merriment, some mumbling along to whichever piece of music the bard was currently playing, some participating in jovial banter, and at least a few people sat drinking alone in a corner. Kjaer made her way up to the bar and sat herself down on one of the wooden stools. 

“How can I help you?” the man behind the bar, Corpulus, she assumed, asked.

“Er, Adriana sent me in. For a hot meal.”

“Adriana, eh? You were there at Helgen, then, weren’t you?”

“I was.”

“You more than deserve a hot meal, I think, after that.” Corpulus told her, and pulled out a bottle from beneath the bar’s counter. “And a bottle of mead to take your mind off things.”

She gratefully took the bottle from him, and sipped at the drink while Corpulus prepared her something to eat. She wasn’t far into her bottle of mead when he came back with a fresh loaf of bread and a bowl of hot apple cabbage stew. Kjaer thanked him and accepted the food gratefully, quickly digging in. She hadn't had soup this good in ages, and it wasn’t gone much long after Corpulus had brought it out. She nibbled on the bread, more slowly than she had eaten the soup, and continued nursing her bottle of mead. She was content, for the time being, but Adriana would expect her soon. 

She finished her meal, thanking Corpulus once again before heading back out into the streets of Solitude. She asked a nearby guard for directions, and then slowly but surely made her way towards Castle Dour. When she entered, the General and his Legate were arguing over the war table.

“I’m telling you, Ulfric’s planning an attack on Whiterun.” the Legate said.

“He’d be insane to try,” Tullius retorted. “He doesn’t have the men.”

“That’s not what my scouts report, sir. Every day more join his cause. Riften, Dawnstar and Winterhold support him.”

“It’s not a cause, it’s a rebellion.”

“Call it whatever you like, General. The man’s going to try to take Whiterun.”

“If Ulfric’s making a move for Whiterun, then we need to be there to stop him. Draft another letter with the usual platitudes, but this time share some of your intelligence regarding Ulfric’s plans. Embellish if you have to. We’ll let it seem like it’s his idea.”

“Yes, sir.”

The conversation clearly over, Kjaer walked up to Tullius and made to introduce herself, when the General interrupted her.

“Are my men now giving free reign to anyone who wanders into the castle? Do you have some reason to be here, citizen?”

“I believe we’ve already met, General.”

“Have we? Oh, of course, you were at Helgen, weren’t you?” When Kjaer nodded, he continued, “Here to join up, are you?”

“Yes, sir, I am.”

“Why don’t you have a chat with Legate Rikke, then? I suspect we might have use for someone resourceful like you. Not many survived Helgen.”

Kjaer nodded to him again, and when he left to continue going over battle strategies, she turned to the other side of the room, where Rikke was drafting a letter.

“So, you survived Helgen, hm?” she asked when Kjaer approached. “Captain Adriana told me what happened. Not many made it out alive... I've got a good feeling about you. And I don't often get good feelings about anything. A warrior knows to trust her gut... I'm not going to go through the normal process with you. I've got a little test lined up. Pass that, and we'll talk about you joining the Legion.

“I can handle anything you throw at me, ma’am.”

“Is that confidence, or bravado? Confidence I can use. Bravado gets soldiers killed. We'll soon find out. I'm sending you to clear out Fort Hraagstad. If you survive, you'll pass. If you die, then I'll have no further use for your corpse.”

“Understood,” Kjaer said. “What’s at Fort Hraagstad?”

“Fort Hraagstad is one of the few fortresses that remains mostly intact. We’re going to install a garrison there, but first, you’re going to clean out the bandits that have moved in.”

* * *

Beirand had outfitted Kjaer with steel armor and a battleaxe before she left for Fort Hraagstad, wishing her luck and clapping her on the back hard enough to make her fall over, had she not been firmly rooted to the ground by the weight of her armor. 

The fort was high in the mountains, west of Dragon Bridge. Kjaer thought the cold would kill her before the bandits would even get a chance, but she made it without too much difficulty, and took a short while to regain feeling in her legs before making her way into the fort. One of the bandits took her by surprise, nearly walking into her the second she stepped foot inside the gates. He drew his sword, but had no time to attack before Kjaer cut him down with one swing of her axe. Nobody else had noticed her so far. 

She snuck through the courtyard, taking out two more bandits before they even noticed her, and then a third who was standing atop the wall as a lookout. _Didn’t do a very good job as a sentry, did he?_

Two more bandits attacked her when she made her way inside, to what looked to be the fort’s prison, and left her with a nasty gash down her side. She took them out easily, though she struggled to keep her balance now, with the cut in her side aching awfully. Four more bandits, awoken by the fighting in the prison, gave her much more trouble, and it was all she could do not to slip up as she battled four against one. Bruised and bloodied, but with the fort now cleared and ready for use, Kjaer could return to Solitude. She trudged down the mountain path as fast as her wounds would allow, only stopping once to catch her breath after a wolf had chased her down the mountain, where she killed it. Night was setting in, now, as she reached the gates of Solitude, and the few people still out on the street gave her strange looks.

Adriana was stood over the war table when she returned to Castle Dour, though before the Captain could greet her, Kjaer had given into her pain and weariness, and promptly collapsed onto the stone floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Solitude

19th of Last Seed

4E 201

  
  


Kjaer awoke in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. From the light coming in through the small window above her, she figured it was close to noon now, though she had no idea which day it was. She laid there for a while, maybe minutes or hours, until the door opened and a familiar face came in. 

“How are you feeling?” Adriana asked her.

“Like shit,” Kjaer replied honestly. “What happened?” 

“I’m guessing the bandits got a few too many hits in on you, and you passed out from the blood loss as soon as you stepped through the castle doors. You’ve got a pretty nasty cut on your left side, and a lot of bruising on your stomach, but you should be fine if you take it easy.”

“What day is it?”

“Only the 19th. It’s hardly afternoon, so you haven’t been out for more than fifteen hours, at the most.” 

“Oh, good,” Kjaer said absentmindedly. “I hate sleeping in.”

“Do you feel like getting up? I was just about to bring you something for lunch, but if you’re up for it, we can eat together in the main hall.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to spend any more time in bed, honestly. It was getting boring in here.” Kjaer said, standing up. She groaned as she stood, her hand immediately clutching her injured side when the pain flared up. 

“Careful,” Adriana said. “You took a few pretty bad hits from those bandits, but luckily for you, one of our mages knows a good amount of restoration magic, so he was able to heal you as best he could. You will be sore for a couple more days, though.” Adriana said with an apologetic smile. 

  
“I can deal with some soreness, ‘long as I don’t have to spend all day in bed.” Kjaer replied.

“Well, I’m sure Captain Aldis would be more than happy to let you join in on some training, if you’re feeling up to it. But first, let’s get you something to eat.”

Adriana led Kjaer out of the room and down the stairs, through the barracks and into the kitchen. Something hot and wonderful smelling was boiling in a pot over the fire, and many wheels of cheese and loaves of bread stacked up on the table. Not having eaten since yesterday afternoon, Kjaer’s stomach growled at the sight, and Adriana motioned for her to go ahead. A few moments later, she joined Adriana at the table with a bowl of hot soup and a loaf of bread in her hands.

While their comrades trained in the yard outside, Kjaer and Adriana shared a meal together, sharing stories and enjoying each other’s company. 

“So, why’d _you_ join up with the legion, captain?” Kjaer asked, her mouth full of bread.

“Ah, of course that’s the first thing you’d ask.” Adriana replied. “It’s a funny story, really. When I was younger, I didn’t want to join the war effort. I thought it was pointless and would only lead to my own death. I ended up studying at the bard’s college, after I eventually left home. Thought it was practically my destiny to become the greatest bard that Skyrim’s ever seen.” 

“You were a bard? _You,_ of all people?” Kjaer snorted.

“I know, everyone else seems to find that just about the funniest thing they can think of. But yes, I was a bard. And for a while I was happy with my life, until the war started to get worse, and every day I’d see even more broken and bloodied soldiers come into the city, and their spirits were just absolutely broken. I think it sort of sparked something in me, because while I was here, protected by the city walls and singing the damned _Age of Aggression_ near every day, the soldiers had been out there, in the _real_ battles, laying down their lives.” Adriana shrugged, taking a sip of her mead before continuing on.

“And I just figured, if I wanted to be singing about the real, important battles, and about our _victories_ , then I’d have to experience it firsthand. I guess I felt like, by doing that, I’d be doing some kind of great service to the Empire. Documenting what’s really happening _out there,_ the important stuff. And so far, fighting for my country has been entirely worth it.”

“That's actually really inspiring, captain. I wish I’d had some kind of big revelation like that. I feel like my story’s cheap because I’d only joined the legion when I had nowhere else to go.”

“That’s just nonsense and you know it,” the captain told her sternly. “Just because you joined up as a last resort to save yourself doesn’t mean you’re not dedicated to the cause. You feel like you belong here, don’t you?”

Kjaer nodded. “Of course. I feel like… like I’m meant to be here. So, yeah, I suppose it doesn’t entirely matter _why_ I joined, so long as I’ve got the drive to fight for our cause.” 

“Exactly.” Adriana replied. “Now, if you’ve finished eating, I believe Captain Aldis is expecting you in the yard for some training.”

* * *

Solitude

22nd of Last Seed

4E 201

Kjaer was training in the yard that morning when Aldis approached her with a message from the General.

“Rikke wants to see you,” he’d said. “Something about an important mission she wants you on.”

Kjaer wasted little time once she’d heard that, quickly yanking her arrows out of the target and stuffing them back into her quiver, before practically running to the war room, where she found Legate Rikke waiting for her. 

“Rikke, you’ve got an important mission for me?”  
  


“That I do. Although you haven’t been with the legion very long, I believe you’ve got what it takes, and Adriana sure as hell believes in you. I want you in Windhelm, acting as my spy.”

“A spy? You’re sure I’m the person for that job?” Kjaer asked, clearly not convinced she was cut out for the job. 

“Adriana thinks you have potential, but I think that potential is wasted if we keep you stationed here in the city. I trust you on this, soldier. Make us proud.”

“I will, Rikke. I won’t let you down.”

* * *

Kjaer packed her things that evening, though it didn’t take her long to do at all. She only had a handful of gold to her name, and she wouldn't need to bring any extra clothes of her own - she knew they’d fit her with a set of stormcloak armor the minute she stepped through the gates. The only other items of importance were the few things Kjaer would never leave behind - her mother’s necklace, and the bow her father had made for her less than a year before he’d passed away. They were the only thing Kjaer had left of home, and she was adamant that she would never part with them.

That night, sleep didn’t come easy for Kjaer. She tossed and turned as the reality set in, and she waited for morning to arrive, drifting in and out of consciousness until it was time for her to go. She’d been asleep no more than an hour when the sun rose, and before long, Kjaer was reluctantly crawling out of bed, shivering when her feet met the cold stone floor. She dressed quickly, leaving her armor neatly arranged on her bed, and donning a light set of leather armor instead. 

With little time to sit down to a meal, her breakfast consisted of a wedge of Eidar cheese and a bottle of mead for the road. Kjaer left Castle Dour, making her way through the city and down to Katla’s farm, picking away at her breakfast as she went. The wedge of cheese was gone by the time she reached the carriage at the bottom of the hill. The carriage driver, Thaer, was already there and climbing up into his seat at the front of the carriage - Rikke must’ve mentioned something to him, because he’d clearly been waiting on Kjaer to arrive.

“Windhelm, is it?” Thaer asked, and Kjaer nodded to him as she tossed her knapsack into the back of the carriage and climbed in with it. When she was comfortably settled in her seat, Thaer snapped the reins and they headed off down the road toward Dragon Bridge. Kjaer reached into her knapsack, pulling out her mead from earlier, and a copy of _Aevar Stone-Singer,_ one of the few books that Adriana had given to her for the trip. She settled down with her drink in one hand and the book in the other, and began reading as they traveled down the cobbled road. 

They reached Whiterun in the afternoon, just as Kjaer had finished off her bottle of mead. She’d long abandoned her book, opting to watch the scenery pass instead. She didn’t get to enjoy the trip the first time she’d come through Whiterun, after the attack at Helgen, and Whiterun hold looked breathtaking in the afternoon sun. She wished she hand’t missed it the first time around. 

As they neared the city, they passed the western watchtower, which lay in ruin, crumbling and covered in scorch marks - clearly, something truly awful had occurred here. 

“What happened here?” Kjaer asked as the cart rumbled past the tower.

“A dragon attacked two days ago, from what I heard,” Thaer replied. “The Jarl’s housecarl barely made it out alive, and the dragon’s still out there somewhere.” Kjaer watched as the tower grew further away, wondering if it had been the same dragon that attacked Helgen. 

It was evening by the time they reached the stables outside of Windhelm. Thaer pulled the carriage up beside the empty one parked there, and Kjaer climbed down out of the carriage, thanking Thaer as she passed by. He would tend to his horse before staying at the inn for the night, while Kjaer headed straight for the Palace of Kings, and her unease grew with each step closer.

* * *

Windhelm

22nd of Last Seed

4E 201

  
  


Windhelm was far less hospitable than Solitude, cold and unwelcoming, and Kjaer was suddenly grateful that it was Adriana who had saved her life in Helgen, and not Ulfric. What a pain, it would’ve been, to be in debt to him. Though she didn’t look forward to the next few months spent in Windhelm, because even though she wasn’t in debt to the Jarl, Kjaer was going to have to make peace with him, and pretend to trust him and pledge her _loyalty_ to him. Being Rikke’s spy was not her first choice of positions when she joined the Legion, and while she preferred it over being stationed in a dusty old fort, she did _not_ want to spend the next few months under the same roof as Ulfric Stormcloak, Jarl of Windhelm and known racist. But it was her duty, to the Legion and to Adriana, to carry out this mission, no matter how much she despised Ulfric. Because _everyone_ in the Legion despised Ulfric.

The guards let her into the city, but gave her a disgusted look when she walked by. Inside the gates, two Nord men were harassing a Dark Elf woman, and Kjaer had half a mind to cut them down where they stood. But she couldn’t reveal herself as a spy, and so she settled for consoling the woman one the men had walked off.

The Palace of Kings was as grand as the stories had said, but it had a certain unwelcoming feel to it. Perhaps because it housed a man who hated her people and everything she stood for. Kjaer found Ulfric in his war room, having a heated conversation with his housecarl. Neither of them noticed her enter the room.

“...Things hinge on Whiterun,” Ulfric was saying. “If we can take the city without bloodshed, all the better. But if not…”

“The people are behind you.” his housecarl replied.

“Many I fear still need convincing. We’ve been soldiers a long time, Galmar. We know the price of freedom. The people are still weighing things in their hearts.”

“What’s left of Skyrim to wager?”

“They have families to think of.”

“How many of their sons and daughters follow your banner?” Galmar asked pointedly. “We _are_ their families.”

“Well put, friend. Tell me, Galmar, why do _you_ fight for me?”

“I’d follow you into the depths of Oblivion, you know that. Are we not one in this? Why do you fight, Ulfric?”

“I fight so that all the fighting I've already done hasn't been for nothing. I fight… because I must.”

“Your words give voice to what we all feel, Ulfric. And that’s why you will be High King.”

“Aye, but until then, we have a war to plan.”

Kjaer took this opportunity to approach Ulfric, once Galmar had turned his attention back to the map on the table.

“You… I remember you.” Ulfric said as he caught sight of her. “You were at Helgen with us. Come to join the war?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Speak with Galmar, then. He handles the new recruits.”

Kjaer thanked Stendarr that she had been given a chance to help their group escape Helgen, that day, for it was most likely her assistance with Ulfric’s escape that had made him overlook her race. She didn’t know if any other elves fought for the Stormcloaks. Galmar had been watching her since she first spoke with Ulfric, and regarded her with suspicion when she approached.

“You escaped Helgen, eh? Ulfric told us quite the story. If you made it through that, you’re likely worth something to me. But first, tell me, why’s an elf want to fight for Skyrim?”

“Skyrim is my home,” she replied simply.

“Fair enough. Are you willing to die for your home?”

“Well, that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? I want to join.”

“All right, girl. Welcome to the rebellion. You ready to take the Oath, then?”

“The Oath?”

“Aye. Before you’re one of us, you must swear fealty to Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, future High King of Skyrim.”

“Right,” Kjaer said. “Fealty to the future king, okay.”

“Repeat after me,” Galmar said, and recited the Oath, Kjaer repeating him after each pause. 

“I do swear my blood and honor to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak,”

“I do swear my blood and honor to the service of Ulfric Stormcloak,”

“Jarl of Windhelm and true High King of Skyrim,”

“Jarl of Windhelm and true High King of Skyrim,”

“As Talos is my witness, may this oath bind me to death and beyond,”

“As Talos is my witness, may this oath bind me to death and beyond,”

“Even to my lord as to my fellow brothers and sisters in arms,”

“Even to my lord as to my fellow brothers and sisters in arms,”

“All hail the Stormcloaks, the true sons and daughters of Skyrim!” Galmar shouted the ending line of the oath, and Kjaer parroted back with much less enthusiasm.

“All hail the Stormcloaks, the true sons and daughters of Skyrim.”

“Now you’re one of us,” Galmar proudly told her. “And here, you’re a Stormcloak now, so you ought to look the part.”

He gestured over to a table where various pieces of blue cloth armor lay, and Kjaer _really_ started to hate the color blue.

* * *

Now wearing the Stormcloak’s ridiculous cuirass, Kjaer was shown to her quarters, which she was to share with five other Stormcloak soldiers - all of whom gave her nasty looks when she came in. But no comments were made, and she supposed that if she was ‘good enough’ to be allowed into their ranks, the other soldiers would at least be courteous to her. 

Galmar had told Kjaer that, for now, since important plans were still in the works, she and her fellow soldiers would serve as palace guards for the time being. Which was, in fact, ideal for Kjaer’s situation. She had hoped Ulfric would not put her into the field right away, so that she wouldn't have to meet her Imperial comrades in battle. Being a palace guard, especially in the _Palace of Kings_ , wasn’t a glorious position, but it kept her from being outed as a spy. 

As often as she could, Kjaer stood guard near Ulfric’s throne or war room, listening in on the Jarl’s conversations for any vital information she could report back to Tullius. When her rotations ended, and she was free for the evening, she would make her way down to the cornerclub and have a drink, chatting with Suvras, her Imperial contact in Windhelm, and giving him whatever information she’d been able to gather.

Kjaer _‘drunkenly’_ lets it slip that Ulfric just sent one of his men to infiltrate an Imperial camp, undercover? Less than a week later Ulfric receives word that his spy has been unfortunately killed during a skirmish. Suvras _‘overhears’_ Kjaer talking about a Stormcloak shipment of gold and weapons, on its way from Markarth? Next week the caravan will fall prey to a bandit attack and never reach Windhelm.

Kjaer was, in all honesty, _excellent_ at being a spy, and Tullius was very pleased with her work so far. But none of it was the important, tide-turning information the General was hoping for. And Ulfric still hadn't let his important plans be known yet. And so, she was stuck waiting and delivering messages to Suvras, like a damned courier. 

* * *

Windhelm

19th of Hearthfire

4E 201

A month passed, and she was finally given a real mission. 

Of course, it was courier work, but at least it got her out of the city. She was to deliver an important message to the commander in Dawnstar, immediately. Ulfric himself handed her the documents, his face wearing a steely gaze to match her own determined look.

“Be careful out there, soldier. These documents are of the utmost importance, and the effects would be devastating if an Imperial soldier were to get their hands on these.”

“I understand, my Jarl. I won’t let you down.”

Kjaer left that same morning, after a quick meal and a stop to gather some supplies for the journey. Once outside the gates, she hurried down to the stables, where a horse was saddled and already waiting for her departure. She climbed up, and took hold of the reins, urging him on. The horse started off at a steady trot, and she made her way out of Windhelm.

She traveled on down the cobble road, past Anga’s mill and the Stormcloak camp at the river’s source. She stopped when she reached the Nightgate Inn, tying her horse to a post and paying for a room just to make sure she wouldn't be disturbed. At the desk, she unfurled Ulfric’s documents and scanned over them, looking for any information Tullius might deem important enough to declare her mission finished.

_They know more of our plans than I expected…_

_Fort Dunstad… in need of reinforcements… I’ll see to it that they won’t be getting those any time soon…_

Kjaer made _‘corrections’_ where she saw fit, making sure that no reinforcements would be coming to those at Fort Dunstad, and falsifying Imperial movements so that Ulfric wouldn't catch wind of their actual plans. With the falsified message in her satchel, she paid for a bottle of ale for the road, and set out once again. She cut through the mountains to avoid both Stormcloak occupies Fort Dunstad, and the bandits in the area. It was only when she’d passed the lighthouse and reached the bottom of the hill, that she felt an arrow fly past her head. Pulling out her bow, she notched an arrow of her own and let it loose in the direction the attack had come from. Though when she saw a flash of red and glinting steel, she paused, and lowered her bow. _Of course, Winterhold’s Imperial camp isn’t far from here._ Another arrow whizzed past, and then a third struck her in the shoulder.

“Stop firing!” she shouted, hoping that she was not wrong in assuming her assailant was an Imperial soldier. “I’m a legionnaire!”

* * *

The Imperial soldier who’d fired on Kjaer had apologized profusely when he heard her shouting at him and realized that she was one of their spies. He led Kjaer back to the camp nearby, and disappeared into one of the tents after saying, “The captain is expecting you.”

Kjaer paused for a moment, confused, but made her way to the large tent in the center of the camp anyway, cautiously approaching and pulling open the tent flap, only to see Adriana of all people standing over a map in the middle of the tent.

“Kjaer, it’s good to see you!” Adriana said, looking up as the elf entered the tent. “Heard you were working for Ulfric now.” she said with a sour look on her face. 

“I know, it isn’t the most ideal position. It’s boring, if I’m being honest. This is the first time I’ve left the city since I first arrived.”

“Really? What’s Ulfric got you doing all the way out here, then?” 

“Delivering important documents to the commander in Dawnstar.” Kjaer replied. “‘Course I made some changes of my own to the letters, but Ulfric doesn’t need to know that.”

Adriana chuckled at that.

“So why does General Tullius have _you_ all the way out here, hm?” Kjaer asked her.

“To keep an eye out for you, I think.” Adriana replied. “She didn’t explicitly say that, but I think she’s worried about having you alone out here, in the enemy’s _house_ , of all places.” 

“This isn’t a permanent situation, is it?”

“No, ‘course not.” Adriana said as she rolled up the map and stuffed it into a knapsack, along with a few important looking letters. “I have orders to return to Solitude in a few weeks, as long as you don’t come running for our help.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Kjaer replied, rolling her eyes. Outside, dark storm clouds were gathering on the horizon, and the wind had started to pick up. “Well, as much as I’d love to stay, I’m expected in Dawnstar.”

“You be careful out there, soldier. I know you can handle yourself, but you’re still in enemy territory. Just stay alert, alright?” Adriana gave Kjaer a quick hug, and a pat on the back, before pulling away and giving her a determined nod.

Adriana watched as Kjaer followed the path away from the camp, and into the building snowstorm as she trekked onward to Dawnstar. The captain silently prayed to the gods that Kjaer would stay safe during her stay in Windhelm, lest she be outed as a spy and killed by Ulfric. Adriana hoped that nothing like that scenario would ever happen to the other woman.

* * *

Windhelm

3rd of Frostfall

4E 201

  
  


By now, Kjaer was used to the winding, easy to get lost in, stone halls of the Palace of Kings, though there were still rooms she was not allowed to access, even as one of Ulfric's most trusted soldiers. Ulfric's personal quarters, for one, along with the treasury, and their interrogation room were all out of bounds to her. Normally, she wouldn't bother with trying to sweet-talk her way into gaining access to the interrogation room, but if she was allowed in there, it would give her an opportunity to talk to the so-called 'important prisoner' Ulfric was always bragging about. Her opportunity came two months into her stay at the palace, when Ulfric could no longer get any information out of the prisoner himself, he tasked Kjaer with employing her own methods in an attempt to draw more information out of his prisoner. 

It was exactly the kind of task she was sent here for - any enemy of Ulfric's would have important information against him, and Kjaer planned to use this opportunity to get just that out of the Jarl's prisoner. It was only just before she set out to speak to the prisoner, that Galmar took her aside and let her know that the prisoner was an Imperial Captain, and that she should be cautious when speaking to the woman. Of course, this information changed everything. 

_Was it someone that she knew? How long had the captain been kept here, and was anyone even looking for her? Did the other members of the legion believe their fellow soldier to be dead?_ Kjaer took a second to brace herself, before nodding to Galmar, and then pushing open the door to the room where her fellow soldier lay on a tattered cot in the corner. She pushed herself up into a sitting position as Kjaer came into the room, her tail swishing from side to side behind her, and her ears flicking at the sound of the heavy door sliding shut.

"Are you here to torture me and ask your unaswerable questions, too?" 

"No," Kjaer said. "I'm here to talk."

"That's what Galmar told me the first time he came in here, and then the very next day I was bruised and bloodied by the time he left."

"I'm not anything like Galmar. I don't get my orders from Ulfric like he does." Kjaer confessed. "I may be given orders by the Usurper, but I don't follow them. My loyalty is not with the Stormcloaks, captain."

"You're Legion?"

"I am. Tullius wanted someone undercover in the palace to relay Ulfric's plans back to Solitude. I've been here two months, now."

"I've been here close to five. You're the first person to speak to me without malice in their voice."

"Nobody has come for you yet?"

"They must believe I was killed during the ambush," the captain said. "What's your name, soldier?"

"Kjaer. I've only been with the Legion for a little less than three months."

"Explains why we've never met. Why'd you join up?"

"There was an attack on Helgen, and Adriana saved my life." Kjaer shrugged, guessing that the captain would be familiar with the other soldier's name, at least. "I joined up because I felt like I was in her debt."

"Adriana was there when I first joined up too. She's a good soldier."

"That she is. So, I've told you my story - what's yours?"

"My name is Dro'issa.” The khajiit woman began. “My family owned a small farm outside of Markarth, back before the war started. But when Ulfric killed Torygg, and the fighting broke out across Skyrim, innocent people died - including my parents. The Stormcloaks didn't give two shits about who they killed, as long as they came out victorious. So I joined the Legion out of spite. I wanted to wipe every damned Stormcloak soldier off of the face of the earth, to avenge my parents."

“Do you feel like you’ve avenged them?” Kjaer asked.

Dro'issa shook her head. “No matter how many Stormcloak soldiers I take down, it doesn’t feel like it’ll ever be equal compensation for my family’s lives.”

“It may not ever be enough,” Kjaer told her. “Sometimes you’ve just got to learn to make peace with what happened, and get over the anger and resentment you hold in your heart. It’s not easy, losing the people you love. It takes time to heal, you know? You’ll be alright.”

“Thank you, Kjaer. Your words have really helped me. I thought I was going to go crazy in here without anyone to talk to besides Ulfric’s men.”

"Listen, it may take some time, and I need a good distraction, but I'm going to get you out of here if it's the last thing I do." Kjaer promised.

"If you can pull this off, I'll forever be in your debt."

* * *

Windhelm

24th of Frostfall

4E 201

  
  


The distraction Kjaer was waiting for came not long after, in the middle of the night three weeks later. The first sign that something was wrong was the sound of feet storming past her room, and the shouts of Ulfric's men outside her door. She threw her blanket off and jumped to her feet, quickly throwing on her underclothes and armor. With her sword in hand, she rushed out of her room and followed the other soldiers into the main hall. Ulfric was there, ordering his men around, with Galmar at his side. 

"What's going on?"

"There's a dragon attacking the city," Galmar explained to her. “Ulfric’s trying to restore some sense of order, but everyone’s panicking. Think you can handle a dragon, soldier? We need all the help we can get, but some of our men have been sent to protect the citizens.”

“‘Course I can handle a _dragon,_ Galmar.” she said, faking a grin at him.

“Right, then. Looks like Ulfric needs me, good luck lass.” Galmar ran off to join Ulfric, and when the two men were distracted, Kjaer slipped away back to her quarters, snatching up her knapsack before making her way down to the interrogation room. Dro'issa was nervously pacing the room when Kjaer found her.

“What’s going on outside?”

“Dragon,” Kjaer said. “Pretty good distraction, yeah?”

“So, then rumors of dragons returning are true, then?”

Kjaer nodded and tossed a war axe to Dro’issa, who just barely managed to catch it by the handle. “Come on, we’re getting out of here.”

“Don’t you still have duties here, as Tullius’ spy?”

“Not anymore. He was satisfied with my work weeks ago, but I couldn’t just leave you here. Tullius allowed me to stay until I found a way to get you out.”

“I truly am in your debt, Kjaer. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“Yeah, well, you can thank me once we’ve made it out of here alive.”

“Of course,” Dro'issa agreed. “Lead the way, soldier.”

Kjaer led them through the winding halls of Ulfric’s palace, carefully peeking around the corner when they reach the main hall, so that none of Ulfric’s men would catch them by surprise. But to Kjaer’s surprise, the hall was empty. Even Ulfric and Galmar had now gone outside to join the fight against the dragon. 

“Come on,” Kjaer said, and made her way out into the cold air, where carnage and fire littered the streets of Windhelm. Ulfric was stood in the center of the city, facing the dragon with both of his blades drawn. He shouted, knocking the dragon back, but it did nothing to deter the great winged beast. It snapped at him with bloodied teeth, and Ulfric stumbled back, clutching his freshly opened wounds. Kjaer charged forward, rushing past Ulfric with her bow drawn, she unleashed arrow after arrow at the dragon. Ulfric and his men had weakened it, but it still put up a fight, snapping its jaws at her and letting out bouts of flame that signed her cuirass. _Damn Stormcloak armor,_ she thought, _no good at protecting its wearer from dragons, is it?_

With renewed vigor, Ulfric joined the fight once again, attacking from the side as Kjaer kept the dragon’s attention. With a well-placed stab of his sword, and a steel arrow sent down a gaping maw, the dragon fell dead, and silence washed over Windhelm. Before her, the dragon began to glow, and Kjaer took a step back. The dragon’s thick skin seemed to flutter up and away like ash, slowly revealing the skeleton beneath. Light washed over Kjaer, and streams of what must have been the dragon’s very essence forced its way into her, and she absorbed it like it was second nature to her. Kjaer collapsed onto her knees, gasping and not understanding what had just happened.

“You,” Ulfric said in awe. “You’re _Dragonborn!”_

“ _Fuck,”_ Kjaer said. “ _Dragonborn?”_

Ulfric nodded. “The hero of legend, the one with the soul of a dragon, destined to defeat Alduin.”

“Alduin. The world eater, the dragon that’s supposed to _destroy_ the world?”

“You must travel to High Hrothgar, Dragonborn,” Ulfric said, ignoring her question. “The Greybeards can aid you on your journeys.”

“Like hell they will,” Kjaer said, finally standing up. “I don’t take orders from you, Ulfric.”

Dro'issa, with a mace taken from one of Ulfric’s men killed by the dragon, joined Kjaer, and Ulfric’s face changed from awe to anger, as he realized that Kjaer had been playing him this whole time.

“You’re an Imperial spy, then?”

“Took you long enough to notice, _my Jarl_.” Kjaer said dryly. 

“I trusted you, girl. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, after what you did at Helgen, and this is how you repay me?”

“You made a mistake in doing so, clearly.”

“You’ll pay for this, _elf_. I never should have accepted a mer into our ranks.” Ulfric spat.

“You won’t touch me, Ulfric. You kill me, and you seal the fate of the world. You said it yourself - _I’m the Dragonborn_. If I die, so does all of Skyrim.

“The minute your prophecy is complete, I’ll remove your head from your shoulders, then. You have my word.”

“I have no intention of fulfilling my destiny at the present,” Kjaer retorted. “I have a war to win. So I promise _you,_ Ulfric, that no matter how much you wish me dead, it’ll be _your_ head on a spike when I’m through with you. _You have my word.”_ And with that, Kjaer turned on her heels and stalked away from the scene, with Dro'issa following behind her. 

“That was quite a spectacle,” Dro'issa commented once they were outside of the city. The guards gave her a wary look as they passed by. 

“I can’t _believe_ he had the audacity to try and threaten me when he had just declared me the world’s savior. I didn’t ask to be Dragonborn! Ugh!” Kjaer kicked a rock in frustration, and it sailed off the stone bridge into the river below. “I have bigger problems than trying to defeat a dragon of legend right now. I’m going to slit Ulfric’s throat if it’s the last thing I do, Alduin be damned.”

“Let’s just focus on returning to Solitude, Kjaer. This war isn’t close to being over, and we’re not going to end it on our own.” 

“No, maybe not. But we _can_ fuck Ulfric over out of spite.” Kjaer replied, looking over toward the stables. “We’ll need horses for the trip back to Solitude, don’t you think?”

“You want to _steal_ Ulfric’s warhorses?”

“Why not? I _am_ still technically one of his soldiers, at least as far as the stablemaster is concerned.”

“I suppose you’re right, we can’t get to Solitude on foot.”

Kjaer made her way down the stairs at the end of the bridge, and approached the stablemaster. 

“Ulundil,” she said, addressing the Elven man who was currently cleaning out one of the stables. “The Jarl requests your presence in the palace. Something about increasing your monthly wages and requisitioning more steeds for the war effort.”

“Increasing my wages, eh? _Finally._ I don’t know how many times I’ve told that man I’m not being paid well enough for the work I do.”

“I suppose he’s finally seen some sense, then.”

Ulundil set down his shovel and dusted off his hands before giving Kjaer a nod and walking towards the city gates. She approached one of the already-saddled horses and unlocked the gate to its stable. Dro'issa did the same, and climbed up onto her own horse with ease. Kjaer paused for a moment, and then made her way back over to the remaining few horses, unlocking each of their gates as she went. With a _smack_ on each of the horses’ hindquarters, they fled out of the stables and split off in various directions, quickly disappearing into the distance. She returned to her horse and mounted, snapping the reins and heading off westward with Dro'issa beside her, leaving the city of Windhelm far behind them.


End file.
